In the Flesh: Spirit to Flesh Outtakes
by LittleWing2
Summary: More Edward, More Bella in the same time and space. If you don't want to ruin the surprise, read Spirit to Flesh first. - Go on, it's short and it doesn't bite much . AU-Human ExB
1. Coming Home

In the Flesh - The Spirit to Flesh Outtakes: A Twific by LittleWing, betad by the one and only Jessica1971

A/N: Hi guys, I have really missed you. *Sniff* Sniff*. As promised, here is the first outtake. This one is running in second place in the poll that ends this Friday, but I couldn't wait to get it to you. Thank Jessica if you like it. She made a special request....

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or The Love Letter. I'm just playin around and havin a ball. No infringement intended. No money made. Viva Le Fan Fiction!

* * *

Coming Home

Edward sighed happily as he wrapped his arm more firmly around Bella's thigh, pleased to find where he had ended up sleeping through the rest of the night. By the depth of her breathing, he could tell that she was still asleep. He wondered absently if she would be embarrassed when she woke up to find him between her legs.

_Probably_, he chuckled as he pressed his lips against her hipbone and grazed his cheek against the softness of her pubic hair.

They were meeting his parents – the whole family, actually – tonight for dinner, and he could not wait. It would be their first trip out of the house since she'd come to his door two days ago. He knew his mother must have been frantic with the news of Bella and was actually amazed that she hadn't come bursting through his door before now.

------

After Edward didn't return her call confirming dinner for his birthday, Esme tracked down Sylvia to hear the peculiar story of Edward leaving with a reporter and not returning to his office. Esme knew how much Edward hated interviews and couldn't imagine what would be so compelling that he hadn't returned her call. She'd talked to him the day before his birthday and knew he was in good spirits, or at least in better spirits than he had been in a long time. When he finally called Wednesday afternoon, his voice was hushed. He spoke so quickly that Esme could barely make out what he was saying.

"She's here, Mom. She's come back to me. She knows."

"What are you talking about? Edward, are you alright? I called you…," but Edward cut her off before she could continue.

"Mom – just listen to me. She's here. Bella is here."

Edward's words were met with silence.

_How? How was this possible?_ Esme's mind rang with this one thought before the possibilities of this new reality hit her square in the chest. She gasped in a wave of relief and gratitude as she realized that her son was no longer alone.

"How? When?" she whispered through her tears.

"I don't know, Mom. I don't know. She just walked into class yesterday…" Edward's voice faded off as his thoughts replayed their meeting. He still couldn't believe she'd been right behind him for nearly an hour before he acknowledged her. He couldn't get over his stupidity.

"Bring her to me," Esme commanded. "I need to see her. I need to see the two of you with my own eyes. My God, Edward, this is a miracle…"

Edward's voice softened as he heard his mother's tears in the unevenness of her voice. "I know, Mom, I know. I just…let me try to make her mine first. We'll come as soon as we can. I... I need time to make her mine."

Esme understood the meaning and practicality of his words immediately. She could only imagine what he had told Bella and how crazy and overwhelming it must have sounded. When Edward whispered that he needed to get off the phone before Bella got out of the shower, Esme buzzed with the knowledge that things between them had come so far so fast. _He's at her house. She trusts him already,_ she thought hopefully. Esme resolved to spend the time until she could meet Bella praying that things would continue to go well for them.

"Come Sunday," Esme urged. "Bring her on Sunday."

"I'll try, Mom. I'll try," he whispered before hanging up.

-------

That was 4 days ago – 2 days before he told Bella that he loved her for the first time, before their first kiss and before she showed up at his house an hour and a half later. It was 3 days before he knew exactly how she liked to be kissed, where she was most ticklish, and what her pussy tasted like before and after making love to him.

Last night they had been insatiable. Their need to express their love and belong to each other had claimed them both. He remembered crawling down her body to taste her, thinking foolishly that it would somehow calm him down. The last thing he remembered was her trembling legs around his neck as he stroked himself to release. _Apparently_, he thought with a smirk, _we must have fallen asleep pretty quickly after that_. As he moved his head to gaze up at her, he could feel her jolt awake in shock.

"Edward?" Bella called as she looked to either side of her pillow. She looked so dazed that Edward couldn't help but laugh.

"Good morning, love." He smiled as he propped his chin on her stomach.

"Oh My God. Edward!" She groaned as her head fell back on the pillow and her hands flew up to hide the crimson shade of her face.

Edward couldn't stop laughing as he made his way slowly up her body, stopping to plant kisses on each breast and her right shoulder. As he reached her face, he kissed her fingers before playfully trying to pry them back with his teeth.

"You smell like…," Bella began with her voice still muffled by the palm of her hand.

"Like what, baby? Tell me what I smell like…"

The mix of lust and love in his voice made her finally let him nudge her hands away from her face to meet his gaze. When he spoke to her like that, there was no way she could hide herself from him.

"Me. You smell like me," she said softly.

"Hhhmmm," Edward replied as he kissed her cheeks lightly. "Do you want some? I might have just enough to share."

"God, I love you," she said, grabbing his face to bring him closer.

"I love you, too, baby" he whispered as he opened his mouth to meet hers.

------

Esme had been pacing the foyer for 30 minutes. Watching her, Carlisle's emotions ranged from concern as his offers of help were silently waved away, to awe as he sat silently and watched his wife mutter to herself as she paced. In their 42 years together, Carlisle had never seen Esme act like this. He wasn't sure if he was witnessing a breakthrough or a breakdown. Either way, it was clear she didn't need his help. So he sat in the living room, keeping silent vigil over his wife.

In contrast, Emmett had decided he was unable to withstand the swell of tension any longer and stormed into the hall from the kitchen with Jasper trailing eagerly behind.

"Mom, you're driving me crazy. What is going on?"

Alice was the last to enter the room, choosing to curl up with her father on the couch and watch the scene unfold.

Having leveled his big hands on each of Esme's shoulders and blocked her path, Emmett finally got his mother's attention. With a sigh, Esme realized she had no choice but to meet her son's questioning eyes and give a response.

"Edward is bringing someone to dinner. I think."

"Okay…," Emmett said slowly as he waited for his normally sane mother to elaborate.

"Is this the mystery woman?" Jasper asked, coming from behind Emmett to stand facing Esme.

Esme's brow furrowed slightly before answering, "Yes." She didn't think that Edward had shared his and Bella's story with anyone, but she wasn't sure.

Alice's voice was a whisper. "Is she the reason Edward ran into the post office?"

Esme realized she shouldn't have been surprised by her children's questions. They were all very intuitive and smart, in addition to loving their brother fiercely. She was sure they must have talked amongst themselves, trying to put the pieces of Edward's strange behavior together. Esme nodded towards Alice just before she noticed Emmett's face relax.

"So this is it then? The resolution. They're finally together." Emmett's voice rang with certainty as he released Esme's shoulders and smiled.

"How do you know that?" Esme asked.

"Because I know my brother. He wouldn't bring her here if it wasn't right. I could tell from the minute I knew he was in love that it was messy. I didn't know if she was a student or married or what, but I knew it wasn't settled in his mind. If he's bringing her here now, then it must be alright."

Everyone stared at Emmett in silence as if he had explained the mystery of the universe in 2 seconds flat.

"What? You know I'm the smartest one in this family, right?" Emmett grinned as he finally took a bite of the apple he'd been holding.

The room had just started to erupt in easy laughter and joking when Rosalie came out of the powder room and looked out the window.

"Hey, who's that Edward's sucking face with out there? Jeez, get a room already."

Rosalie turned just in time to see Esme whizz past her as she flung open the front door.

------

Bella tore her lips away from Edward as soon as she heard the sound of the front door opening. As Edward turned around, she could see a woman in a beautiful purple wrap dress bounding down the three steps of her house towards them. Though Bella knew she had to be at least 60, the woman that she recognized from pictures as Edward's mother looked at least 10 years younger. Her light brown hair blew behind her as she ran.

As Edward's frame moved to reveal Bella fully, Esme's steps halted. While Esme assumed the girl would look something like the picture she had seen, the reality of Bella standing no more than 20 feet away from her was astonishing.

_She looks exactly the same,_ Esme thought.

Understanding his mother's shock, Edward closed the distance between them, leaving Bella slightly self-conscious by the car.

"I know, Mom. I know. Come meet her."

"My God," was all Esme could manage as she felt Edward lead her towards his future.

As the two women he loved most faced each other, Edward could not stop the smile that threatened to break past the limits of his face. He said a silent prayer of thanks to a God he could no longer deny. He had everything he wanted right in front of him.

"Hello, Bella." Esme whispered through fresh tears. "I… I can't tell you how glad I am to finally meet you."

Esme wanted to reach for her and crush Bella to her. _You can not imagine what you mean to all of us already_, she thought. But she didn't want to scare her. Esme still wasn't sure what Edward had told her and how much Bella understood of their long and impossible past together.

"Thank you so much, ma'am. I feel so honored to meet you." Taking a deep breath, Bella continued, "Thank you for bringing us together." As Bella finished, she reached out her hand just as Edward enveloped it in his.

Bella's words made Esme smile through her tears as she reached up to cup Bella's face in her hands.

"Welcome home, dear girl. Welcome home."

-------

3 weeks later….

Although Bella had not seen much of Edward all day, she wasn't uncomfortable at all. Between Emmett constantly cracking jokes while Kyle bounced on her knee, Alice chatting away, and Carlisle apologizing for the craziness of his family, she could not have been more at home. They had all decided to have a picnic the afternoon of the Mid-Summer Night's concert – right in the park where the concert would be held that evening. Rosalie had informed Bella that it was a Cullen family tradition. Every year since Edward started conducting the concert, they met in the park for an afternoon of games, food, and music. Bella smiled as she thought of herself being included in this tradition, in this family. Even though they had only known each other (in this life at least) for 4 weeks, the thought no longer made her blush. She knew she belonged here, belonged with him.

As the lights went up on the stage, Esme settled between Bella and Alice and held them close. Though Edward could not see his family in the sea of 20,000 people, he knew their general direction. Knowing they could see him on the large monitor, he gave a quick wink and a wave in their direction before turning to the orchestra. He laughed as he heard a raucous round of whistles and catcalls that he knew could only be his family.

As the concert began, Edward could not contain his joy. Everyone on the stage had undergone some kind of metamorphosis in the last few months. He had pushed these students to the limits of their talent, and they had each risen to the challenge and surpassed his expectations for them. They played each piece with a confidence and boldness that was rare in musicians so young. He felt proud to have been a part of bringing them to this level. But he knew the biggest change was in him. There was no facet of his life that was not permanently altered by his love for Bella. The thought that she could take him over so completely comforted him, washing all his years without her away, making everything new.

Tonight he hoped to do the same for her. He knew she was only 24 and she might not be ready for marriage and a family, but he couldn't wait any longer to ask her. If she wasn't ready, he would wait until she was. No other option was available to him.

When the orchestra came to the final number, their symphony, he felt every note driving him towards his goal – making Bella his forever. The tone of the final movement felt prophetic as it soared. Triumphant. _We're triumphant_, he thought. _E__veryday - over all the obstacles that could have kept us apart_. When it ended, he was so focused on getting to her that he almost forgot to take his final bow before rushing off the stage.

"In a hurry?" Jasper laughed as he met Edward backstage.

Edward gave Jasper a quick hug before asking, "Where is she? I can't wait another second."

"We're all by the third flag pole from the stage, but Esme said I needed to find you and give you this before you got to us, so you don't ruin the surprise." Jasper watched Edward proudly as he handed him the small blue velvet box.

The night that Bella had met his family for the first time, Esme had pulled him away from the group to offer it to him. "You may want to get your own," Esme had started hesitantly as she handed him the ring. "But I would be so happy if you would give this to her. It was my grandmother's engagement ring, and I think it would be perfect for her."

Edward had nodded slowly as he turned the delicate band over and over with his fingers.

"Do you like it?"

"It's perfect for her, Mom. I don't….Thank you." When Edward finally looked up from the ring, Esme could see the intensity of emotion in his eyes.

"Let me get it cleaned for you, so it's ready when the time comes. It should only take a few days." They had smiled at each other quietly, knowing that the moment when he would offer it to her would come soon.

As Edward's thoughts came back to the present, he gave Jasper a long hug before running down the stairs to join his family.

-------

"Edward, I don't know what to say. That was just some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. Baby, you were brilliant."

"Thank you, love," Edward replied as he bought her hand to his mouth for a brief kiss while he drove.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked absently as she rolled her window all the way down to let more of the warm night air caress her face.

"Just outside of town. There's a place I want you to see."

Bella glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before leaning further out of her window. She knew he was up to something, but she wasn't worried. He looked serious, but happy. So was she.

As they pulled into a long driveway, Bella was struck by a strong sense of déjà vu. Edward stopped the car just at the top of the driveway, before walking around to open her door. From where he parked, she had a panoramic view of the house and grounds in front of her.

The moment she stepped out of the car, she knew she had been here before. Although it was dark out with only the moonlight to illuminate the objects before her, she could see the blue and white colonial clearly.

"What is this place? Who lives here?" she asked as she turned to him.

"Do you know this place, Bella?" Edward was watching her carefully as he began to doubt whether this was a good idea. _What if being here makes her upset?_

"Yes," she answered, "but I know I've never been here before. Edward, where are we?"

"This is… was… your home, Bella. You used to live here."

Bella's eyes widened as she stepped forward, taking in the house fully. Instinctively, her footsteps drifted towards a path that led to a garden behind the house. The feeling of unbound recognition was powerful as she took in the shadowed beauty of the flowers.

Edward wrapped his arms around her from behind when she stopped at an empty space where a bench used to be.

"I used to sit right here," she whispered. "I loved this spot so much."

"Yes," Edward murmured. "You told me. I was so disappointed when I came here and it was gone."

Bella turned in his arms then, responding to the infinitesimal trace of sadness in his voice.

"You came here before? That day, you came here!" she said, finally understanding the deeper significance of this place for him. Her head turned to search the wooded area just outside the garden.

"Show me."

Edward picked her up in his arms as he retraced the steps that now seemed a lifetime ago. He set her down in the exact spot where he first felt her touch.

"Here. This is where I first let you in completely… consciously. This is where I learned that I had to be yours forever, that I could not ignore what we are."

As Bella took in the intensity of his gaze and the trembling emotion in his voice, she suddenly understood what they needed to do – what they were about to do in their woods. Her hands drew a line from his forehead to his cheek as she held him. The question was right there in his eyes, wondering if she was ready for it. _How could he doubt it?_ she wondered. She had waited lifetimes for this moment.

Bella slid her right hand directly over his heart while her left hand cradled his beautiful face in her hand.

"Ask me, Edward. I'm ready."

Edward did not hesitate. The moment her hand came to rest over his heart, he knew she understood.

"Marry me, Bella," he begged. "Marry Me."

"Yes," she answered as she rose up to kiss him softly. "A thousand times, yes."

* * *

a/n: Well our chickadees are on their way. Next stop - married with kids. It may take a while for the next outtake to marinate, but have no fear. I will post it as soon as it crystallizes in my little head enough for me to get it on the page. 'Til then, please review and let me know how you liked this little slice of their lives. The reviews really do inspire me. As always, thanks for reading and sharing this journey with me.


	2. Sweet Chaos

In the Flesh - The Spirit to Flesh Outtakes: A Twific by LittleWing, betad by the vivacious Jessica1971

A/N: Well, here is the #1 outtake pick. Thank you to everyone who voted for it. I hope that this makes you smile.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or The Love Letter. I'm just playin around and havin a ball. No infringement intended. No money made. Viva Le Fan Fiction!

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Sweet Chaos

The house was an absolute disaster. For the millionth time, Bella was glad they didn't have a lot of furniture. Between the twin stroller, juice bottles, squeaky toys, big wheels, and bowls of partially eaten cheese, apples, and oatmeal, she couldn't imagine any more clutter. With a sigh, Bella stepped right over the block set to walk through the massive glass doors. She knew she didn't really care. From the back porch, she could hear them somewhere out in the woods - decidedly human growling followed by high pitched shrieks of delighted terror. "Yum! Yum! Yum! I'm gonna have LOTS of little toes for dinner tonight…" Edward growled in the baritone he reserved for his "Big Bear" performances. Bella chuckled as she pulled up a chair to relieve her slightly swollen ankles. The temperature was perfect, warm and dry. _Edward was right,_ she thought, _I should have taken my nap out here._

"Nooooo!" she could hear her two children cry in unison as they burst through the last line of shrubs before the clearing. They were a blur of auburn and blond curls, knees, colorful socks, and purple and red sneakers. "Mommy…help! Big Bear! Big Bear!"

As the children raced up the steps, seeking the "safety zone" of their mother's arms, Bella could see Edward emerge from the trees with their oversized brown chenille throw secured to his head by what looked like a pair of women's pantyhose. "Wow!" Bella mouthed before she burst out in laughter and rose from her seat to get a better look at the spectacle. Her face settled into a wide grin as she watched him straighten up from his "bear crouch" to find her giggling down at him. Their eyes met just as her children crashed into her, one on each leg.

"We're safe! We're safe!" they taunted the Big Bear from their high perch. Edward dropped to his knees in a defeated howl. Bella thought it was his most dramatic performance to date. _Perhaps a little too good,_ she guessed as Aria and Charlie immediately retreated back down the steps to check on the health and general well being of Big Bear.

"Daddy, you o-kay?" Aria asked in her small, lilting voice as Charlie proceeded to shake Edward by the arm and demand "Don't cry, Daddy!"

Edward gathered them in front of him as he composed his face in a sincere expression. "No," he said in a low mischievous voice, "I'm not okay. I'm HUNGRY!"

Bella returned to her seat for the ten minutes it took before all the tickling and tackling ceased. _They'll be good and tired_, Bella thought with admiration. _My husband really knows how to tucker them out._ It was 11:44 am, 16 minutes away from the most sacred part of any parent's day - nap time. Edward walked up the porch steps with their kids resting lazily in his arms.

"Hey, beautiful" he smiled as Bella rose to meet him with a lingering kiss.

"I can put them down for a nap," she offered. Though he didn't look it, Bella knew he must be tired. Cullen kids ran hard. Two Cullen kids at once was barely legal. At 43, Edward had more stamina than anyone she knew. Every time she asked him about it, he would say the same thing. "Sweetie, I've waited my whole life for this. You, the kids – it's everything I've ever wanted. Plus, I still get to have my music. I am the luckiest man in the world. I'm never too tired for this."

As usual, Edward ignored her offer to help as he moved past her with a smile and took the kids to their bedroom.

------

"When's Esme coming again?" Bella asked as she finished tidying up the living room. She could hear Edward's footsteps emerging from the hall where their children were peacefully resting.

"6 o'clock. Baby, you don't have to do that. I was gonna clean up while..."

"Edward, please." she laughed. "I'm almost finished already. You know YOU could sit down for a minute. I can still do some things. The doctor said rest, not hibernate, Big Bear."

She didn't realize Edward had reached the living room until his arms wrapped protectively around her and her swollen belly. "I know what the doctor said. I was there. And I believe she said that you had to…now how did she put it? Do what I say, yes, now that I think about it, those were her exact words," he teased as he caressed her neck with his lips.

She sighed into him and dropped the cardboard puzzle in her hand. He knew exactly how to get her. "I don't remember it that way," she lied as she gave in to his touch.

"You smell so good when you're pregnant. I can't explain it…so sweet…" he murmured into her ear. She could feel the warmth of her arousal spread through her entire body as he began to lightly massage her breasts.

"Oh, God. Uunghh," she moaned as she felt him lead her towards the couch, each of them making the same silent prayer. _Please let them sleep for at least an hour_.

Once his pants were down around his ankles, he lifted her body to settle her on top of him, then shifted his hips down to accommodate her new body and give her greater control over their movements. Edward took his time as he began unfastening the small white buttons of her nightgown, slowly savoring the sight of each inch of her skin that was revealed.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured as he gently took her nipples into his hands. Their position and her condition didn't allow him to suck on them greedily like he would have done a month ago. She was 41 weeks pregnant and he knew her nipples were tender. Instead, he let his fingers linger on her in a succession of light touches that seemed to please her now and made her make the soft whimpering sounds he liked to hear.

"Oh… oooh," she sighed as her head fell back. _That's my girl,_ he thought as he licked his fingers clean of the small amount of milk that had begun leaking from her breasts.

As he remembered the sight of her plainly naked body under the thin cotton of her nightgown on the porch, his hands moved to trace the soft muscles of her calves as he inched her gown up over her hips. Bella immediately brought herself directly over him, so he could feel how wet he made her. 40 pounds and a bulging belly later, she was still amazed how sexy she felt under his touch. How beautiful. She wanted him to know what he did to her, even now. No matter what.

As he felt her wetness dripping down on him, his eyes widened and darted towards her hips in disbelief.

"Fuck."

Bella raised his chin with her hands so that they could share what she knew.

"Yes, you do this to me. Always," she said as she sank down on him in one slow movement.

Their eyes closed as their hands reached for each others faces, feeling the awe and ecstasy there as they began to move together.

"Daddyyyyyyy! Mommmmeeeeeeeeeeeeee! ! A fish bit my big toe!"

Their eyes shot open in fear of who was about to run out into the living room.

"Charlie," they mouthed in unison and relaxed slightly. Charlie would stay in his bed, waiting to be rescued. If it were Aria, they would have already been caught. Edward and Bella savored the last moments as they watched each other come back from what they were about to share. Slowly, Edward shifted his hips upward and lifted them both off the couch.

"Ugh!" Bella groaned in frustration as Edward placed her gently on the floor. Bella pushed the thin straps of her gown back up her shoulders.

"My sentiments exactly," Edward frowned.

As they each arranged their clothing, Bella couldn't help but chuckle softly at the battle Edward was losing trying to tuck away his massive erection in his boxers while his pants were still around his ankles.

"Babe, I would give up the fight if I were you and just pull up your pants," Bella suggested with a smirk.

"I never give up!" Edward grinned as he bent down to retrieve his pants.

"I'll see you at 6 pm sharp, Mrs. Cullen," he whispered as he headed towards his son.

-----

"Alright troops. It's bath time. To the Bathroom. Now."

Edward and Bella stood in amazement at the way Esme inspired complete obedience from a pair of willful 3 year olds. _Who are these children?_ Edward wondered as he watched them salute and _run_ to their bathroom.

"You've got to be kidding me?" was all he could manage to say to his mother once they left the room. Bella was still shaking her head right along with Carlisle.

"What? Oh, don't worry, you'll catch on. You get 'the voice' when the 3rd one comes. Trust me, I know." Esme smiled at their collective disbelief before turning her attention to Carlisle. "Alright, Cullen... you too. It's going to be messy in there, I'll need some help."

Esme winked as Carlisle hopped to his feet towards the bathroom. Since retiring 3 years ago, he'd learned the trick to a happy life after work was simply to do whatever your wife told you to do. He was blissful.

"See you two tomorrow," Esme waved before following Carlisle towards the sound of mischief and giggling children.

While Edward lifted his wife into the Volvo SUV that now replaced his Vanquish for everyday transportation, Bella let out a soft snort. "Why is it that you love to pick me up when I'm as big as a house?"

Since Bella had swatted his hand away when he tried to buckle her seatbelt for her, Edward settled for closing her door and addressing her absurd question once they were on the road.

Bella eyed him curiously as they pulled from the driveway onto the main road.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment?" she teased.

"No, I'm offended by the way you're talking about my wife," he smirked, giving her an evil sideways glance before extending his arm and resting it lovingly on her stomach.

"It's the only time I'll ever get to hold you both in my arms at the same time.

Besides, you know I think you're at your most beautiful just like this," he continued with a low and reverent voice.

They were silent for a long time as their hands intertwined over her belly, just enjoying the intimacy of the moment. As the warmth of his hand seeped into her skin, Bella could feel the baby begin to stir as it always did when he touched her like this. Edward didn't look away from the road as a smile crept over his face.

"Hey there buddy," he whispered before checking the speedometer as he pulled onto the highway.

After a long stretch of blissful peace and quiet, Edward asked, "So are you going to give me a preview of what I'm about to see tonight?"

"Not even a hint."

"Unbelievable. I've been banned from the house for almost 6 months now."

Bella kept her eyes closed as she grinned. Edward had bought her the blue and white colonial as a VERY early wedding present. He'd settled on it two days before he asked her to marry him, but had only managed to keep it a secret for a week. She'd learned pretty quickly that her husband was not good at keeping secrets from her. With everyone else, his privacy and lack of candor was legendary. With her, he was almost boyish, an open book for her to know and cherish.

Birthday presents, anniversary gifts, she could usually find out what they were with a couple of pointed questions and some simple snooping. She'd found last year's anniversary present, a pair of diamond earrings, in the medicine cabinet. She guessed that all the years of living alone had not taught him how to hide anything well. 'It's because you're a reporter', he'd offered by way of self-defense when she finally confessed to having found them 2 weeks before he gave them to her. 'Please, Edward,' she'd chided. 'Stevie Wonder could have found those earrings.' Though Edward refused to admit any shortcomings, they compromised by putting her in charge of hiding all of the children's Christmas presents.

Edward snuck a quick glance at his wife who was clearly enjoying his unrequited curiosity.

"At least tell me if it still feels weird being there? That should be safe conversation."

Bella opened her eyes to look at him. In the early days of their marriage, Edward had been unsure how she would feel reading her old letters to him and if she would be truly comfortable in the house she once lived in so long ago. In truth, it was a little weird at first and she told him so. Being in the house felt like a constant wave of déjà vu, but his presence there helped her distinguish the intense feelings in her past from her present. She knew there was happiness in the house, but there was also sorrow and loneliness. In the beginning, she hadn't wanted to go there often. To his credit, Edward never pushed her. He said it was her house to do everything and nothing with, as she wished. But once the twins came, something inside her shifted. She suddenly felt like she knew how to move forward with her understanding of her past and present. It was almost as if she could see herself finally living dreams she'd had for decades. She began to view her life now as the fulfillment of her past. Two years after their birth, she decided to enlist Esme's help to find an architect that would finally bring both of her world's together.

"Edward, renovating this house has been the greatest gift. I can't even describe the joy. No, it doesn't feel weird at all anymore. I can't wait for you to see it. I really love it."

Edward smiled as he listened to her talk. He could tell that she was happy with the house, herself, and their life. There was nothing else he could really ask for.

"I'm proud of you, Bella. You know it was hard for me to step back and let you have this. I know you needed to do this without me, to own it for yourself, but you've been amazing to watch. I can't wait to see what you've done."

Bella smiled at his encouragement, his love for her.

"Thank you for keeping this part of me safe, for protecting it for me until I was ready to claim it. I didn't really understand what you did at first, but I do now, and I'm so grateful."

"You don't have to thank me, Bella. It's us. I couldn't let any part of us go."

Bella leaned over to take his hand and press it against her cheek. It smelled of vanilla and sandalwood with a slight hint of baby powder. It was her favorite smell in the world.

------

As they stepped out of the car, the sun was just at the beginning of its descent. The bright orange sky played with the pale blue of the freshly painted house, making it come alive.

"Bella," Edward gasped in approval as he helped her out of her seat before moving towards the house. She had replaced the dark blue shutters with white ones that had wider slats and installed an arched wooden awning with pillars over the front door, giving the house a more open and contemporary feel. Elements from the back garden were brought to the front as blue asters and black eyed Susan's lined the steps to the front door. Bella stood behind him, watching him take it all in, the new home she had made for them.

His hand reached for her as he continued to take in all the new features she'd added - a new white lattice fence that led to the garden, a bird bath, and a big dog house for Agnes who had been standing guard here since last night. Just as he began to wonder where she was, he could hear her barking her welcome as she ran towards them from deep in the woods behind the house.

While she jumped up on Edward's right side to lick his face, Agnes was more subdued with Bella, greeting her with a simple lick of her hand as they walked towards the front door. Agnes had been the first to know that Bella was pregnant and treated her with uncanny calm and gentleness throughout her pregnancies.

Though Edward was silent through most of the tour, his eyes sparkled with a pleasure and deep happiness that let her know he could appreciate everything she'd done to refurbish and redesign the house. Light woods replaced dark woods, and original moldings were painted, re-stained, and displayed in new ways, paying homage to the old while bringing in new life. The biggest change was the back wall on the first floor, which was replaced with a wall of French doors that opened out to the back garden from every room. The blue and white striped satin wall paper in the open dining room shimmered with the light from the garden and found its perfect compliment in the black and white pictures that were displayed on almost every surface.

As Edward took in the light colors and the laughing faces of his children that were placed throughout the house, he slowly began to understand the simple statement she was making in every corner. _There is joy here_. He held her shoulders tightly as they made their way upstairs.

"I want to show you our room first. We can see the others later," she said as she pulled him by the arm through the open door of their bedroom. Edward noted that Bella had kept much of her old bedroom intact, with its rich wood paneling and large picture windows. The bedroom was bare except for a large four post bed in the middle of the room and a cream bench at the foot of the bed. The only decoration was a picture she had taken on their honeymoon of only their feet intertwined together as they faced the blue horizon of the Aegean Sea. It was their favorite picture together because it meant the same thing to both of them - their destinies finally together, facing the same direction. The picture was enlarged and hung almost 3 feet wide over their bed in splendid color.

"Welcome home," Bella whispered as she took in Edward's awed expression.

"Thank you, baby," was all he could say as he held her gently in his arms.

By the way Bella leaned into him, Edward could tell she was getting tired.

"Bella, why don't you get…"

"No, I want to stay up with you a little while longer. It's gonna be at least a year before we get this kind of time together again."

"It won't be that long," Edward chuckled, rocking her slowly in his arms. "Maybe 7 months, tops." They both knew all too well the sleepless nights that were ahead of them.

"Let's take a bath together. We have a new tub."

"Really!" he said a little too excitedly for her growing level of fatigue. "Why don't you lie down on the bed for a minute while I discover our new bathroom?"

"Hhhhmmmm, okay" she mumbled happily as she made her way to the bed.

Edward smiled as he turned on the bathroom light to see an almost exact replica of the bathroom they had in their hotel room in Greece, remembering her near obsession with it. The floors and walls were covered with rustic ceramic tiles, with dark blue accents along the shower and backsplash that matched the large double sink vanity that was carved out of solid blue marble. He quickly began filling the large soaking tub with warm water before checking the shower stall to see if she had any of her favorite body wash already in the bathroom. When he didn't find any, he decided to go back out to the car to retrieve the toiletries from her bag. As he turned off the water and walked back into the bedroom, he found his wife snoring softly on the bed.

He leaned against the doorway and took in the sight of her. Hair spread across the white sheets, thick and luxurious as he had once only imagined it. Her body ripe with a child he never thought he would have. Her presence, the very weight of her in his arms, was a testament to the fact that she was real and solid and strong and very much here. He had tried to explain to her many times how it felt to have her alive in this time, after believing she was gone, but he knew she would never truly understand. Only the woman who had died to give her life could understand the full extent of the miracle - the end of the longing. As he inched slowly closer to her, his smile widened as he thought how much his wife believed he couldn't keep anything from her. The truth was that there was simply too much to share, too much love, too much gratitude, too much joy she would never know. He didn't try to keep it from her, there just wasn't enough time to explain it and live it at the same time.

This year he was proud to have finally picked an anniversary gift that he was sure she wouldn't find before he was ready to give it to her. Excited by the thought, he kissed her lightly on the forehead before running to the car to retrieve his guitar. It was her 2nd anniversary gift to him. "Because you need a portable outlet for your genius," she'd said. Though he'd never played the guitar before, the challenge thrilled him, as she knew it would. Within a few weeks, he'd learned the basics enough to compose and play a few nursery rhymes for the twins.

While he brought a chair up from the living room into their bedroom and opened up the windows to the night air, Bella remained deep in sleep as he watched her silently before picking up his guitar and plucking the first few chords of her favorite song. It had taken him almost a day to come up with what he deemed to be a credible acoustic version of it. He still wasn't quite used to singing, but she said she loved the sound of his voice, so he practiced until he finally believed her, getting pointers from Sylvia in between being teased for acting like a "love-sick teenager".

He grew to love the song as he practiced the new arrangement, thinking about the unconscious yearning of the young girl she was when she first heard it, when it first made her long for him, before she even knew it. Looking at the time, he thought, _Screw it. It's only 4 hours until our anniversary anyway._

As he closed his eyes and sang, his voice was thick and raspy with emotion:

_I am finding out that maybe I was wrong  
That I've fallen down and I can't do this alone_

_Stay with me, this is what I need, please?_

_Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you  
We could sing our own but what would it be without you?_

_I am nothing now and it's been so long  
Since I've heard the sound, the sound of my only hope_

_This time I will be listening._

_Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you  
We could sing our own but what would it be without you?__  
_  
As he reached the end of the second chorus, his eyes opened to the sight of Bella watching him silently from the bed, tears welling and streaming down the bridge of her nose as she lay on her side.

His breath caught briefly as he paused and then continued, never breaking eye contact with her as he sang.

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
This heart, it beats, beats for only you_

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is yours_

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
My heart is yours_

_This heart, it beats, beats for only you  
_

_My heart is yours_

_My heart is yours_

_My heart is yours_

_My heart is yours _

When he was finished, Edward placed the guitar on the floor and moved towards Bella's outstretched hand. Time between them seemed to stop and stretch as he lowered himself to the bed facing her, kissing her tears away softly as his own began to fall. They lay on the bed together, silently watching and holding each other, feet entangled and facing the same bright horizon.

* * *

A/N: The song that Edward sings is Paramore's My Heart, which seized mine about half way through writing this and I couldn't let it go until it found its way into this story. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. I have one more outtake for this story which charts Bella's journey when she returns from her trip to Boston. After that, hopefully all questions will be answered and we can let these folks live happily after. My most heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read, favorited and reviewed this story and Spirit to Flesh. You make my day with every word you write. I wish you all the best...LW


	3. The Gift Inside

Spirit to Flesh - Outtakes A Twific by LittleWing

In the Flesh - The Spirit to Flesh Outtakes: A Twific by LittleWing, beta'd by my hero, Jessica1971

A/N: There was a time when I thought this would have been the first outtake posted, but alas, it's taken awhile to birth this baby. She's a big one. A tissue or two may be needed. Special thanks to Cullen312 for planting this idea in my head and for many others who requested this viewpoint. I truly hope you like it. Remember, this starts off when Bella gets back from her trip to Boston (Spirit to Flesh – Ch.10) and continues on from there. As always, thanks for reading! LW

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or The Love Letter. I'm just playin' around and havin' a ball. No infringement intended. No money made. Viva Le Fan Fiction!

* * *

Chapter 3 – The Gift Inside

If Bella could have run all the way home, she would have. Two weeks away from home, away from Edward, was too much.

After the charms of Mr. Masen subsided, she was left with nothing to do in Boston but wish she were writing Edward. The novelty of being in the city where he now lived had gotten her through the first week there as she walked through the streets trying to imagine where he was and what he was doing, but by the second week she felt she would go mad. To slow down her anxiety, she wrote him poems. Letters would have been torturous with no means to deliver them to him and get the almost immediate response she'd come to expect. Bella theorized that a poem was more appropriate for a one way love letter, so she spent her second week in Boston writing poetry while sitting by Jamaica Pond, which was one of Edward's favorite places.

As she burst through her front door, Bella could not contain her smile at the thick stacks of letters waiting for her on the round front table.

"Can you not wait a moment, Bella?" Charles chuckled. "I never knew you loved home so much."

"I love letters, Father. I love letters!" she shouted as she ran up the stairs with her arms full.

Closing her bedroom door firmly behind her, she let her girlish giggles run free. The sheer volume of letters in her arms left no doubt in her mind that Edward had missed her as much as she had missed him.

Bella spread the letters out over her bed before lighting a fire and undressing slowly, trying to slow her heartbeat and prolong the joy of her anticipation. Finally, after slipping on her nightgown, she sank down on her bed and began sorting his letters. He'd numbered them for her so that she could walk through each day with him, just as he had spent them. As she reached the bottom of the pile, she noticed a tattered envelope that had been singed and charred around the edges. It marred her white sheets with black smudges.

Bella stared at the letters on her bed, noticing for the first time how they all seemed to circulate and center around this one unnumbered envelope. Her instincts ran from foreboding curiosity to avoidance. She instinctively didn't want to open it, but she could neither cast it aside nor reach for it, so instead she climbed off of her bed slowly and went to the window where she could see the sun beginning to set behind the line of trees in her backyard. She did not stir as Maggie knocked on her door and entered tentatively.

"Ma'am, another letter arrived for you today." Bella turned slightly in acknowledgement of Maggie's presence and motioned for her to leave the letter on her desk. Their desk. Bella could not explain the change in her mood from giddy euphoria to quiet and pensive. She glanced at her bed towards the letter that lay there like a warning or a curse. She had never thought that there would be anything worse than coming back from Boston to find not a single letter from him, signifying that their connection was lost. Staring back out the window, she could feel that her imagination had been woefully deficient.

_Fire._ She thought. _The letter had been on fire._

In an attempt to lift her mood, Bella moved towards her desk to see the new letter that Maggie had bought. It seemed intact and unharmed in Maggie's hand, but for some reason that fact did not comfort her. As she glanced down at the letter in the center of her desk, Bella halted in surprise at the unfamiliar script.

_To: Miss Isabella Swan_

_From: Thomas Stewart on behalf of Mr. Anthony Masen_

_On behalf of_, Bella thought as she opened the envelope. _Had he joined the war already?_

The letter inside was folded in half and secured by a black ribbon and a small note tucked in between satin and parchment. Bella read the note first.

_Dear Miss Swan:_

_It is with deep regret that I inform you that Mr. Anthony Masen, along with his beloved parents, has passed on due to the influenza plague that has ravaged our city. I forward this to you as my final duty to him, as it was left on his nightstand, presumably written before his illness, and clearly intended for you. I humbly apologize for having to deliver it with such tragic news._

_Sincerely,_

_Thomas Stewart_

_Butler_

Bella worked to move past her shock as she read the note again. _Anthony Masen? How could someone with so much life in him be suddenly gone?_ she wondered and shook her head at the irony of the beautiful man who was so anxious to go off to war being bested in his own home by an unseen enemy. The sadness she felt at the news of his passing did not surprise her. Even though she had only known him for an hour, she sensed their strange connection clearly. _We would have been good friends,_ she thought. _Such a terrible waste._

Anthony's letter was brief and cordial, reiterating his pleasure in their meeting and his sincere hope that she would continue their correspondence. To her, his words seemed static and slightly awkward, which made her smile sadly as she remembered their encounter on the train. Feeling the shortness of time acutely, she decided to brush aside her dark mood and move back to the bed. _I've been away from him too long_. At first she resolved to avoid the charred letter, placing it back at the bottom of her pile, but the idea of her unnamed fear disturbed her. Just as she opened the first letter, she abruptly put it down and reached for the bottom of the pile again.

Bella handled the letter as carefully as she could as she read and interpreted Edward's despair. The story he told was incredible – unbelievable – she reached out to him as a 13 year old boy. His English teacher, her death, and the longing, always the longing. She could tell that he had been crying as he wrote, racked with guilt and regret. In contrast, Bella was a mix of sympathy and excitement. _Here is my chance to meet him – to touch his hand!_ she thought wistfully. It was more than she'd ever thought to ask for. _Even if he doesn't know me, what difference does it make?_ She would touch his hand and read to him from a book of her very own poetry. She was thrilled with the promises his letter held for them both. Although Bella felt sympathy for his regret, she was confident she could assure him that she would never hold his 13 year old indifference against him. He would not become the man he was now for many years. She would show him how this was a triumph over the tragedy of their distance.

It was with this gaiety of spirit that she began reading each letter he had written to her over the past 2 weeks. She laughed at the collection of post it's he'd sent her on day 2 and the hilarious story he'd told on day 4 describing in great detail his misguided childhood efforts to shave his hair into a recognizable style. To her it felt like Christmas. The envelope for day 5 was thin, and as she opened it she squealed in delight as she understood that he had not waited, as he'd threatened, to send her his picture. As Bella tore open the envelope, the picture flipped out of her hands and landed face up on the bed. Her smile turned slowly from excitement, to confusion, and then shock as she took in the beautiful face of the man she'd met only once before on a train to Boston.

Bella froze as her eyes took in the impossible green of his eyes, the length of his frame, and the crooked smile on his face. That face. Though his shoulders and chest were broader, more muscular, the male in the picture was unmistakably the man to the boy she'd met on the train. Bella closed her eyes and tried to remember his voice and how it soothed her. Now she knew why. "You are the same," she murmured. "My God. You are the same."

Bella was still in shock as she moved from her bed to her desk to tell Edward the extraordinary news. It was only as her eyes fell again on Mr. Stewart's note that a new understanding began to seep through the shock that occupied her thoughts. _Anthony is dead. If you are the same.._. Her mind did not finish the thought. She would not finish the thought. "No!" she told herself as she reached for her stationary. "No. You have all the evidence that he lives on your bed. He will write again tomorrow." Bella scribbled a brief note to him and placed it in the desk. _By morning, I should have a letter from him_, she told herself. She played this scenario over and over in her mind with desperate certainty until she had left no room for doubt. She walked back to the bed and immersed herself in his letters, letting the familiar tone soothe the dread that was growing in her heart.

When she didn't receive a letter from him with the morning mail, she tried not to panic. _He must be busy. He's preparing for the summer concert. He must have so much to do. Yes, that is all. _It was rare that she didn't receive a morning letter from him. _Rare, but not without precedent_, she told herself. It had happened once or twice at the beginning of their correspondence, but not for a long time. Bella helped Maggie clean the house to keep occupied. When the evening mail came without a letter from Edward, she began holding her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from shaking. She felt ill and sweaty, but refused to even acknowledge the shadow growing in her mind.

_He will write me when he can. He will write. He will write. He will write. He will write…_

The sweat, combined with her involuntary shaking, made for the perfect ruse to excuse herself from dinner and lay awake all night replaying her conversation with Anthony Masen over and over again in her mind.

By morning, her breathing was ragged and Charles threatened to call a doctor if she did not let him in the room to check on her. But Bella could not let him in to see that she had not washed, had not changed clothes since yesterday. "Please, father. Please, I just need rest," she pleaded. Charles gave her until noon. When the mail man did not come to deliver the morning mail, Bella stripped herself of her clothes. She could feel herself getting hotter, as if her skin was slowly catching on fire. Her movements became jerky and frantic as she paced.

"He will write. He will write," she muttered to herself aloud, but in between her silent mantra another voice would break through against her will whispering softly. _They are the same. They are the same_.

Bella ran to the bed and grabbed the picture of Edward before sliding to the floor. She rocked herself back and forth by the dying embers of her fire as she spoke to the picture. "You will write me," she hissed. "You must. Not both of you. Not both."

By 1pm, the doctor declared that she had a stomach virus and needed plenty of rest and water. She was not to be disturbed. On this, Bella and Dr. Owens agreed. As soon as he left, she locked her bedroom door and uncovered the letters she was hiding under her bed spread. She had written him another simple note, just before the doctor arrived.

_Please Edward, I need to hear your words. Please write me, my love. I have received your letters and I am fearful, so fearful I can not name it._

As the sun set on the second day, Bella could no longer contain the whimpers that fell softly from her lips as she curled up and shivered on the floor. "They are the same. They are the same," she sobbed, finally letting her tears run wild and free through the night.

Though she screamed, her body released no sound as she stumbled between the four corners of her room. Her prison. Her tomb. She could not see through her tears as she struggled to comprehend the depths of what she had lost. She could only feel herself peeling away, losing her grip on everything she had been, everything she wanted. Nothing reflected her pain, nothing felt real. She beat her hands on the floor through dry heaves, but it did not approximate the crushing feeling in her chest. She fisted bunches of hair in her hands, but nothing could distract her from the burning of her flesh.

She needed a mirror, needed a way to feel her pain reflected back before it consumed her. _Who could bare such a need?_ she wondered aimlessly.

_Edward_

_The Letter_

Bella crawled to the bed and found Edward's last letter to her, the one that just 2 days ago had seemed unnecessarily riddled with grief. Now she knew what he felt. As Bella read his words again, she saw her own tears mix with his on the page.

_"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to be where you are," he'd written_

His words woke her up from her nightmare as she memorized the details of how she needed to come to him. The book, the inscription, Winchester, Boston. His letter was the anchor she needed to keep herself from becoming utterly unreachable.

Bella sat holding his words… his last words to her as the ink of night slowly receded with the early morning light. Bella's tears finally dried, leaving her eyes swollen and raw. She felt neither conscious nor asleep. She was lost even and especially to herself. All she could cling to were the instructions in her hands from what she believed to be the last moments of his life. _If this is what he died to tell me, it will not be in vain_, she thought as she rose from the floor and made her way to the desk that they once shared.

She fought the urge to write him, even as she took her seat. She wasn't sure she was strong enough, lucid enough, to even express what she wanted to say. As she wrote, Bella felt herself teetering on the edge of calm and numb. Although she kept the despair in her heart for her memorial to him, she could feel the emotion spread over her with finality. Placing the letter hopelessly in the desk, she felt as if she had sent the last remnant of her heart with it. She would keep her promise. She had no choice, but she could not fathom the rest.

"Come back to me, Bells… come back to me."

Charles' voice was a muffle behind the heavy oak of her bedroom door, weak and pleading with fear. If there had been anything left of her heart, it would have broken to hear him so shaken and vulnerable. But she was not herself. All she could offer him was confirmation that she was alive. Bella pulled her nightgown on from the floor and opened the door to see her father standing in her doorway.

At the sight of her, Charlie reached in and pulled his daughter to him. He could see dozens of letters scattered across the bed, but could not understand what had bought his daughter to this place.

"Bella, can you tell me what has happened? Please, Bella, confide in me. Please."

"I am here, Father. I am here," was all she could manage to say in response.

Charles held his daughter in his arms for a long time with no words passing between them. When he felt her strength begin to falter, he finally lifted her up and carried her to bed. She did not protest as he laid her down. She was limp in his arms, a mere shadow of the young girl who had burst through their door three days ago.

"I'm here, child," he whispered. "I will always be here for you."

When she did not respond, Charles quietly exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. He took a seat on the chaise in the hall and fell asleep quickly as he waited for his daughter to return.

Bella woke some time later, not recalling how she got into her bed or how much time had passed since she was last awake. _It doesn't matter_, she decided as she turned over on her side towards the door to find the sad image of her father slumped over on the chaise just outside her door. _He must think that I've gone mad_, she thought without concern.

_68 years. I will have to wait 68 years to see him again._

The thought terrified her into near paralysis. She saw her life stretched out before her like a dark abyss, with no breaks or flashes of light along the horizon. She knew that there had been a time of deep joy in her life, but she couldn't access it in her memory from even 3 short days ago. She wondered how she would ever reclaim enough of herself to survive the journey alone from here to 1986 – 68 years in the future. As it was, she felt tied to her bed by grief, with no desire to leave or be rescued.

Instead, she watched as Charles began to stir and then jolt upright as if he should not have fallen asleep in the first place. Their eyes met as he regained consciousness, his full of worry and hers vacant of any emotion at all.

Charles nodded in understanding at his daughter's expression; nothing had changed from the night before. His daughter was as lost to herself as he'd found her last night, as she'd been for the last 2 days. He wished that he could find the thing that inflicted this pain on his daughter and choke the life from it as it was choking the life out of her. But the enemy was silent in his house, though he sensed that it had been lurking amongst them for some time now. As he broke her gaze to focus on the letters that surrounded her on the bed, on the floor, on her desk, he knew he was right.

Whatever the cause, he knew her wounds were fresh. She would need time to recover from the shock and pain inflicted before she could begin to heal. He'd watched the same phenomenon on the battlefield when he was a naïve boy. Even though the type of wound was different, he recognized the frozen expression of horror on the face – on her face. Charles had never thought he would live to see that expression on a girl child. His own daughter. He took sad comfort in the fact that he knew what to do for her - how to nurse the dying back to life.

"Maggie," he called in a low but audible voice.

Maggie ascended the steps warily. The house had been filled with nothing but the sound of Bella's cries for 2 days, and she had no idea what to expect when she found Charles standing erect and determined outside Bella's door.

"Yes, sir."

"Ms. Bella will need a sponge bath for the next 2 days and some broth and bread in the morning. Clear a path through the letters, but do not touch them until after I have spoken with her. I will let you know when you can tidy up."

Although he knew Bella could hear him, she added no sound or objection to his instructions. It was what he expected.

"Don't worry, my child. I will take care of you now."

Bella stayed in her near catatonic state for four days. Sometimes, Charles would hear her movement about the room. _Picking up the letters_, he thought. _That's a good sign._ She did not speak to him or anyone as they cared for her, only offering brief moments of thanks through a futile turn of her lips in what he assumed to be a smile.

On the fifth day, she came downstairs with a fresh dress pulled over the same vacant expression.

"What will you do now, Bella?" Charles stared at his daughter directly. He still didn't know what happened, but he hoped that his own directness might encourage hers. Watching her, he knew that the careful, sheltered life he had built for them was about to shift and change forever. He didn't know what would take its place, but he knew their lives would never be the same again.

"I don't know." It was the first thing she'd said to him, to anyone, in days.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened? What has brought all this on?"

Bella hung her head and sighed. Even while locked within herself, she'd had a vague but constant awareness that at some point she would have to explain herself. She had decided before she came downstairs that she didn't have the energy to come up with a concoction. All she had was the truth, bare and raw. But she knew she wouldn't share it, at least not all of it. _Charles wasn't ready for that_, she thought. She knew she never would be. She decided to peel off the lightest parts of the tragedy, the parts she could stand to watch illuminated by the light of day. Even though Anthony was real in her world, she felt the least connection to him, and so she decided to start with him. Edward was the one who held her heart. Edward was what she could never share, never do without.

"Do you remember Mr…," her breath hitched even as she tried to say his name. There was so much pain, even in this. _No,_ _I must keep this brief_, she thought. "Do you remember Anthony… Anthony Masen from the train to Boston?"

"The young gentleman in the dining car?" Charles asked, perplexed that this could possibly have anything to do with him. _She just met him_, he thought.

Bella did not answer his question, but her sigh let him know that his guess was correct.

_What could have transpired between them that would have led to this devastation?_ Charles pondered as he strained to recall his brief meeting with Mr. Masen.

"I thought you just met the boy, Bella," he continued. "What does he have to do with…?"

"He is dead, Father. I received word the day we returned."

Charles was silent. Of all the scenarios that had run through his mind, this was the last thing he expected to hear. As he saw his daughter's face become even more drawn under the weight of their conversation, he could not comprehend how so short a meeting could have produced this state. _No more than an hour at the most_, he calculated. His next question seemed impossible, but it was the only one that made any sense.

"Were you… do… were you in love with him, Bella?"

_Were you in love with him, Bella?_

Bella turned the words over in her mind. Past tense. In love. The phrase used to seem so large in her young mind. Legendary and grand. Full of passion and promise.

Everything she had wanted, she had and lost. All that was left was the love she felt killing her as it burned, very present and real, from the inside.

She couldn't possibly verbalize the answer to his question. There were no words for what she felt, would always feel for this man. _Edward…maybe Edward could play the sound_, she thought, the meaning of all she could not say.

Bella lifted her head to face her father fully. She could not answer him, but she could show him, he could see the absence of the person she used to be – the want in her eyes as the tears streamed down her face.

With one full glance at his daughter, Charles sprang from his chair to embrace her and shield himself from the unbearable sight of his broken child.

"You must come back to me, Bella. I can take anything but this. Please, Bella, anything but this. I can not lose you. I can not lose you," he pleaded, panic gripping his mind as he second guessed every decision he had ever made for her.

His panic seeped through the numbness of her senses enough to make her want to do something to soothe him.

Bella was aware that this was the first time she had consciously wanted to do anything in days. _What can I say to him?_ she wondered. _All that he fears is true_. She was gone. The daughter that he knew was gone and there was nothing, but pain and crippling, inescapable loneliness in her place.

"I can't. I can't remember who I used to be," she whispered.

"Then I'll remind you. I'll remember for you, Bella, until you come back to me."

-----

Charles did not ask her any more about Anthony Masen, or the letters in her room or what happened. He was focused on more important things – helping Bella come back to him – to herself.

As it became a little easier each day to coax her out of her room, Charles tried something he never had before – talking. A lot. At first it was just to fill the time as they sat together in the parlor or took a stroll in the garden, but then something occurred to him one day as he was telling Bella about his older brother Garrett, whom he had foolishly followed into war. As he described Garrett's merciless teasing, Bella looked up at him from her constant daze with a look of confusion on her face. Up to that point, he hadn't been sure if she was even listening to him.

"You've never really spoken of him," she said simply.

Charles nodded slowly as he realized how much he'd kept from her. He remembered the day when she was 4 and running around the backyard with wild hair and a pair of boy's pants that he'd bought for her to play in the dirt with. They had been preparing to plant the first of the rose bushes that would become her garden when Ms. Cobb, her nanny, came running behind her to admonish him.

"Mr. Swan, you are raising a young lady, not a horse! You must learn to train her properly." While he bristled at her tone, he felt he needed to defer to her knowledge as a properly brought up and highly respected woman. _Perhaps_, he thought, _my stories of adventures on train cars and stealing wild horses in Mexico are not what she needs_. It was the day he had closed off the parts of himself from his daughter that he felt were inappropriate. It was the day she started calling him father instead of papa. Her hair had rarely been out of place ever since.

Now suddenly seemed like a perfect time to share these stories with her, to finally let her know him as no one else had. He had always, would always, think of himself as her father. _But perhaps now_, he thought, _I might be a friend, too_.

And so he began to tell his daughter, for the first time, about himself and his life. Charles wasn't sure how or if it helped, but she seemed to be present at least when he talked about himself. The look of alertness in her eyes drove him on as he filled her head with stories of his childhood, his parents, the war, and his courtship with her mother. Some of it she had heard before, but most she never had. Sometimes he could even get her to crack a smile. Charles was sure it was the most he had ever talked in his entire life.

As they sat in the parlor late one night, he was even able to make her laugh at the story of his brief but memorable incarceration in Texas over a case of mistaken identity, a missing saddle, and a gun wielding monkey named Bilbo.

As their collective laughter died down, the room became silent then heavy as they watched each other.

"Thank you, Father. I know you have so many questions, but I thank you… for just being with me now. Reaching out to me as you have…."

Charles nodded his understanding and waited for her to continue, to come back to him.

"I… I've been… I read… some of the poems I wrote while I was in Boston. It… reminded me of how much beauty I saw in life before… listening to you these past few weeks… it makes me want to try to see more… experience this life that I have. To fill my life… with more, but I don't know how."

Charles sat up straight in his chair. This was the most she had said in weeks, and he could see her life coming back in the nervous twitch of her finger and the crease in her brow. She wasn't the same, but that was okay. She would be more now. Her innocence would be replaced with wisdom, experience, fearlessness, and adventure. He knew this path well. He was overwhelmed with the understanding that he was the right father for her now. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _I always have been_. He could show her how to live the life she needed - the life she wanted.

"I can show you, Bells. I can teach you how to live on your own, by your own terms. I could never teach you to live how the world says a woman should. But if you want to learn to live as a man, to do what you will, I can teach you that."

"Will you?" Bella asked in awe. She had never thought of it, the way her father described it. Would never have used those words, but the sentiment was exactly right. She realized that this was her chance to make what she could of what was left of her life. The bridge she needed from now to then. Her life starting over again.

"Yes," Charles said simply.

"But I know nothing of money and…"

Charles cut her off with a wave of his hand as he settled back in his chair with a small smile on his face.

"I took care of that in Boston. When you gave old Newton the boot, I kind of figured you would need to have your own means. You have means, Bella, from your mother's and my estate. I will show you how to invest it and use it so that you can live without…"

"I'm going to be a writer," she blurted out, wanting her father to understand that she was able and unafraid of making an honest living.

As he watched the fire in his daughter's eyes return, his smile widened. "I think you already are a writer, Bella."

Bella cracked a small smile then, realizing her father noticed her far more than she ever gave him credit for.

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Well, the first thing you've got to do is learn how to handle your liquor." Charles declared as he popped up from his chair and poured her a glass of brandy. "This may get you into trouble, but it will get you out of more. Doesn't make sense now, but trust me, it will."

As he held the glass out to her, she couldn't help but return his smile. She had never heard him use such a casual tone with her. She realized how deeply it suited him, suited her.

"So, I imagine you'll want to travel. You'll need to learn to ride a horse properly, none of that saddle side stuff, but we can do that while we're arranging your passage."

"What?" Bella choked out as she took her first sip of hard liquor.

"Travel," Charlie stated with a roguish grin made adorable by the salt and pepper of his thick beard. "You've got to get out, Bells. There's a whole wide world out there."

Bella nodded slowly as she let the alcohol and her new possibilities warm her from the inside out.

"Where to first?" he said as the excitement of a much younger man filled his lungs.

"India," she replied without hesitation. "I've always wanted to ride an elephant."

---

68 years, she had waited 68 years for the best day of her life to finally arrive. She hadn't slept most of the night, she couldn't temper her excitement. Life coursed through her like she hadn't felt it in years. Bella passed the night wide eyed and giddy, twirling the ends of her snow white braid between her fingers as she read his letter from so long ago, over and over again.

She wanted to follow his instructions exactly, wanted to make her gift to him perfect. As perfect as his gift to her had been. Everything else, all the mementos and keepsakes from her long life and travels, she had either left behind or given away, to friends and strangers alike.

She had nothing left in her life but this day. Her apartment in Boston was empty save the bed she slept in, her reading chair, and the dining room table where her most precious belongings were laid out carefully. His letters, her poems to him over the years filling two large boxes, and the outfit she planned to wear pressed, ready, and lain across the table. She knew she was being silly when she bought a new outfit for him. _No one cares what a 87 year old woman wears_, she had thought as she handed the saleswoman cash for it.

She had braced herself for years for the reality that he would not know her, would not know that he should know her, or that he would regret so deeply, decades from now, that he didn't know her today. But all the logic in the world couldn't stop her from buying the pale pink pantsuit. _My last brand new outfit,_ she thought.

In the days and weeks leading up to this day, she had felt the girl she was resurrected within her; not that she had ever let her go, but in the past two weeks she was more present. More tangible. Primary in her thoughts and behaviors. As she looked in the mirror now, she saw the woman she had become that day in the woods, not the old woman she had become, reshaped and altered by age. _But my eyes still shine brightly,_ she thought. _I am still myself inside._ The moles on her hands didn't frustrate her today. She rubbed more lotion on them to make sure they were soft and warm when she touched his hand.

Seth, her poet neighbor and occasional chauffeur, had agreed to pick her up at 8:15 sharp. The school was 45 minutes from where she lived in Boston with her perfect view of Jamaica Pond. As she heard the bass line booming from somewhere on the street, she smiled while fastening the last button on her pale pink shirt. She loved the city, loved the life that would go on and renew when she was gone. It made her hopeful that her deepest wish would come true, that she would be renewed as well and allowed to try again to find him. After this day, she would not hold on any longer, she would let the life within her finally slip through her fingers so that her soul could rush forward.

Seth knocked on her door at 8:10 am. She smiled knowing that he had sensed her urgency when she'd asked him for a ride a week ago and made an extra effort to be on-time today.

"Hello, young man," she smiled at him while opening the door. "You have made me very happy today."

"You bet," Seth replied while looking around in awe at the empty spaces where all her furniture and books used to be. "You're really moving, huh. Back to Willoughby?"

"Yes," Bella answered as she slowly put on her coat and purse.

"I'll miss you, Ms. Swan. It'll be so weird without you."

Bella chuckled as she straightened the collar on her raincoat. "Seth, you don't know me well enough to miss me. If you're doing it right, you'll be too busy to do more than think of me from time to time." She looked up then to take in Seth's surprised and slightly hurt expression. "Make sure you do it right, Seth. You're too young to miss me."

Seth stared back at her for a moment. She was such a small, unassuming woman. It always made him forget how she would always speak the truth, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it was. She smiled at him fondly before clearing her throat.

"We need to go, dear. Do you mind bringing those boxes with you to the car? They're not heavy, just papers." Bella tucked the wooden carved box with Edward's letters under her arm as she spoke. They were too precious to be carried by anyone but her.

"Sure. No problem, Ms. Swan."

As Seth pulled onto the highway, he noticed Bella humming softly as she stared out the passenger window, stroking the wooden box in her lap. She had never talked much outside of helping him with his poetry and encouraging him to keep writing. She was right about him. He didn't know her very well at all, while she, between the poetry and the inebriated confessions, knew far too much about him and the daily struggles of his life. When she'd shown up at his door a week ago to offer him her entire art collection in exchange for a ride today, he was floored. He knew some of the paintings were very valuable. "Consider them inspiration for your writing, and if times get hard, consider them rent," she'd said matter of factly. When he agreed to take her, she nodded once then shuffled back down the hall without looking back.

"You seem so happy. What's so special about today?" he asked, deciding at the last minute to try and even the debt of knowledge between them.

"It's the most important day of my life," she said softly.

"What? How do you know that? Isn't this just a reading at some prep school?"

"Yes, indeed." He could hear the smile in her voice. She didn't offer any other explanation as she left him waiting in the car and walked slowly toward the front entrance of the school with a small book he hadn't noticed before tucked under her arm.

Forty-five minutes later, she emerged with tears in her eyes, gasping for breath. The calm woman who had left his car was replaced with a quivering, stumbling thing, looking older and frailer than he had ever seen her. Seth sprang from his seat to catch her as she seemed to fall against the car door.

"What happened to you?!" he shouted in a panic.

"Something…" she gasped. "Something wonderful. Please. Please take me to Willoughby. I need to go back."

He was stunned into a confused stupor as he held her tightly, wondering what on earth he should do. When her shaking subsided, he lowered her back into the passenger seat and reclined it so that she could rest as she murmured quietly to herself, tears tumbling silently past the wrinkles on her face.

By the time they reached her house, she resembled the woman he knew more. Wordlessly, he carried the boxes from his trunk onto her front step before walking around and opening the passenger door for her. As he knelt down to get a good look at her, he wondered if he should be leaving her alone in this big remote house all by herself.

As if reading his mind, Bella smiled through her tears.

"I hope you are as happy in your life as I am today," she whispered.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? I don't understand..."

Her full bodied laugh made him feel like the last hour had been a hallucination.

"I have never been better in all my life. Never, not a day before today." Her eyes were shining with the truth of her words, but he still didn't understand. He knew he never would.

When she rose from her seat on steady feet, he felt relief flood his body as he watched her take a deep breath before turning to him.

"Thank you," she said simply before patting him on the cheek and turning towards the steps.

He couldn't think of anything else to say except, "Can I come see you here next week to work on my short story?" Somehow, the events of the day made him feel like he needed to reestablish their ritual, make sure she would be here next week.

"Sure," she answered as she opened the door and turned to him. "If you like. If you have time."

When Seth pulled up to her house the following week, the day was sparkling and sunny and he couldn't help feeling optimistic as he felt the cool breeze race through his hair. Something told him she would be outside on a sunny day like this, so he made his way around to the back garden where he knew she liked to sit and write. He shrugged off his initial surprise to find her favorite bench empty before turning to make his way back to the front of the house.

The sight of the back door open wide caught his attention. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should be concerned about intruders. _Not out here,_ he thought ruefully as he scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary.

A flash of white from the woods caught his eye and stopped his breathing. He was suddenly afraid, but didn't know why. His feet moved slowly towards the fluttering white fabric lying on the forest floor. As he moved closer, his eyes took in a pair of small feet peeking out from under a brown wool blanket, hands resting on cool dirt, surrounded by billowing nightgown sleeves, white hair splayed over the roots of an elm tree, and a small frozen smile on her pale white face.

The shock brought him to his knees before the sight of his mentor, lying peacefully dead on the ground. There was a small note that lay on top of the wooden box that was tucked under her arm beneath the blanket.

Slowly, he removed it and began to read.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_I would like to be cremated. Please call Mr. Jenkins at the number below. He will make all the necessary arrangements. Please include the boxes in the front hall and the wooden box here with me in my remains to be cremated. They are not to be opened or disturbed. When it is done, I would like to be scattered here among the trees where I was first lost and then found. _

_Thank you kindly,_

_Isabella Marie Swan_

It was 30 minutes before he could move from her to make the necessary calls. He spent the time staring at her and wondering what the hell had happened and what he should do, until he remembered their odd conversation from just seven days ago. He remembered her urging him to not waste his time, to live "right" as she had said it - to get on with it. He rose to his feet with a sense of purpose and urgency that he had never felt before.

"I will, Ms. Swan. I will," he promised as he said his goodbyes and walked towards the house to call Mr. Jenkins.

~ The End ~

* * *

A/N: You okay? I am sorry that this one ended on a sad note, but just remember that she is rushing forward and we know WHO she is rushing to. It all ends well.

As this story concludes, all that remains is my intense gratitude to each of you who read, reviewed, pimped, and enjoyed my little tale. For those of you who said you liked this story better than The Love Letter movie - God Bless You! I am so humbled by even the notion. Deep genuflection and never ending praise to the champion and heroine of this story, Jessica1971. Without her, you guys would NOT be happy with this story - but more than that I am so glad for our friendship. Jessica - You're like the cool kid at school. I feel instantly cool by association. Thanks for sharing your allknowingness with me.

To all the readers, I can't express the joy you've bought me. I will treasure this experience always. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

If you are looking for another fic to enjoy now that StF outtakes are done, check out YellowGlue's The Worst of Weather (which is complete) and then Rose Like Thunder (The Worst of Weather from EPOV – in-progress). I stumbled across this story because a lovely reviewer urged me to check out Twilight Enablers over on LiveJournal. To say I am IN LOVE with her writing is an embarrassing understatement. She specializes in what is commonly known as angst, but I think she takes it to a whole other level. The character development is INTENSE, the dialogue between E & B is SEERING and the writing is TRANSCENDENT (in my humble opinion). If you can handle angst and Darkward, it is SO worth it. She blows my mind with every word she writes.


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